Being Lost
by Kumiko Hasegawa
Summary: When Sanji gets lost in Kamabakka Kingdom, it takes a wandering marimo to help him find his way. Written for the ZoSan Secret Valentine for the lovely x-blackbutterfly-x. Rated M for shenanigans on the beach.


Here we have part one of two of my Valentine for the lovely x-blackbutterfly-x over on the Tumblr. I was given TOTAL ARTISTIC FREEDOM. *maniacal laughter* (Keep an eye out for number two; I'll be uploading it to my Tumblr this evening.)

This a part of the ZoSan Secret Valentine Exchange organized by the ever lovely TurtleFriedRice. It's made Valentine's Day so much more fun!

Anyway...this fic is **rated M**.

I do not own One Piece.

* * *

He was running.

Wet sand clung to his feet and sprayed up the backs of his legs with every stride. Wind ruffled his hair and clothes, and he was even slightly out of breath. But, for the first time in his life, Sanji wasn't running away from anything. There were no Marines hot on his trail, or Sea Kings or angry locals or bounty hunters, for that matter. Instead, he was running with someone. A group of beautiful ladies. Well, sort of ladies. It was really hard to describe what they were, especially since he was one of them.

The makeup that covered his face breathed remarkably well. Even in the temperate climate of the pink-tinged island, it neither felt heavy nor did it make him sweat. The extensions clipped into his hair were surprisingly light; the lovely blonde curls bouncing with every step. And his dress…Sanji's dress was truly something to behold. The okama really knew what they were doing. The soft pink hue complimented his skin perfectly and the cut hugged his frame in all the right places. Sanji was a vision. He was absolutely breathtaking and he loved every minute of it.

All of his problems were long forgotten as he ran along the pink beach with the other okama. The pain of old injuries was nonexistent and the angst of missing friends was far from his mind. Sanji was riding the euphoric high of freedom. Elizabeth-chan and the other okama had helped him to discover a part of himself that he hadn't realized existed. Here, on this pink safe haven with these people, Sanji could exercise he deepest and most secret desires. All else be damned, he was happy here.

They were just rounding the corner of an outcropping of rock when Sanji noticed the thing. It was floating in the surf, riding the small waves as they gently lapped against the rosy shore. Slowing his stride and then coming to a halt completely, he stood and stared at it with open confusion. The little green ball bobbed merrily up and down as the currents buffeted it back and forth. The moss ball looked so out of place amongst all of the pink and red; and Sanji felt something clench around his heart at the sight.

Farther ahead of him, he heard deep yet feminine voices calling his name, beckoning for him to follow. Sanji took a few stuttering steps after them, but stopped when he saw an invisible current catch the clump of moss, intent upon carrying it out to sea. Whatever it was that had clutched at his heart squeezed it painfully at the sight. Sanji paled beneath his makeup. A chorus of okama voices floated to him on the perfumed breeze once again, but the pleading calls of "Candy Boy!" and "Sanji-chan!" barely reached his ears. Sanji didn't dare break eye contact with the moss ball or it might disappear. When his lovely hosts' voices grew more insistent, Sanji finally spared them a sideways glance under his long, false lashes.

"I'll catch up in a minute!" he responded in sugar-coated notes. He waved a reassuring hand at them. "Go on without me!"

Sanji allowed himself a small sigh of relief when the rest of the okama turned away and continued their jaunt up the beach. Smiling softly as he had been taught, he redirected all of his attention to the bobbing bit of green that was still fighting the current's pull out to sea.

"Hang on, little guy, I'll save you," Sanji cooed, his voice still filled with sugary sweetness. He still couldn't believe how rough and crude he must have sounded before his change.

Carefully lifting the ruffled hem of his dress, Sanji waded into the warm water. He hummed to himself, relishing in the feeling of sea water on his skin and soft moving sand between his toes. He really did love the ocean. Gentle waves splashed against his bare legs and small underwater currents played around his ankles, teasing him and begging him to leave land forever and go out to sea. Sanji suddenly felt a surge of longing course through him. He couldn't be sure why, but he wanted to feel wooden planks beneath his feet and the gentle rocking that somehow always managed to soothe his soul. When he looked up, he wanted to see an endless horizon in all directions. Most of all, he wanted friends to share it with.

The little ball of moss bumped against his shin, snapping Sanji from his weird trance. He blinked several times and shook his head. That had been strange. He was happy here. He was safe here. He was _content_ here. Why would he want anything else?

Sanji gathered the entire hem of his dress into one hand as he bent to scoop up the little plant with the other.

"Are you lost, little marimo?" he asked, smiling softly at the little ball of green sitting securely in his palm. He turned and began to wade back to shore. "I don't think this is where you intended to go."

He examined the moss ball as he walked, completely confident in his balance in the water. The poor little thing had certainly seen better days, that was for sure. The soft green covering was thinner in some places than others, and there was a band of brown running around it like a scar. Sanji laughed quietly to himself as he emerged completely from the surf, dropping the hem of his dress so he could run the pads of his fingers over the damp moss.

"You've had a rough journey, haven't you Mini Marimo?" he asked, proud to have come up with the name on the spot. He gently placed it on the sand and took a seat next to it. Sanji wasn't sure why he was doing it, but he felt the urge to have a proper conversation with the wayward plant. "Would you believe me if I told you that I know another marimo that's a lot like you?"

Mini Marimo was silent. And rightfully so, it _was_ a plant. Sanji shrugged and continued on.

"He got lost a lot too. I was always the one that had to go after him." Sanji forced a light-hearted laugh. "He always turned up in the weirdest places."

More silence. Mini Marimo was apparently as stoic as his namesake.

"I think he might be lost again," Sanji continued, unfazed by the lack of response. A shiver ran through him as he remembered the moment that Zoro had disappeared under Kuma's paw-like hand. Sadness swelled within him and he hugged his knees to his chest, running his hands over the ruffled hem of his dress. "I wonder where he and the others are now?"

The moss ball continued to sit quietly beside him. Sanji fidgeted in the sand, digging his toes down into the cool layers beneath the surface. He was beginning to feel tired, and loneliness nagged at the back of his mind. Releasing a quiet sigh, Sanji slowly eased himself onto his side, ever careful not to disturb his new little friend. He rested his head on one arm as he curled around Mini Marimo and stroked it with the fingers of his other hand.

It was oddly soothing, being in the company of the lost little plant. As he stared at it, Sanji noticed that it was a deeper green than Zoro's hair; it was just as soft, though. Memories of running his fingers through short green strands swam to the surface of his mind. Their last night together aboard the Sunny had been a departure from the rest they had spent in each other's arms. Sanji wasn't sure if it had been because they had intuitively known that the worst would happen or if Zoro had simply been feeling the strain of his lingering wounds from Thriller Bark, but things had felt different between the two of them. A sort of desperation had hung thick in the air in the crow's nest. At the time, Sanji had mistaken it for passion, but now…

Sanji huffed and rolled onto his back, completely forgetting about the expensive hair extensions that now fanned out around his head or that such a position wasn't terribly ladylike, especially considering the length of his dress. He absently played with the moss ball, his finger tips tingling after being laid on, and looked heavenwards. Even the sky here was caste in a soft pinkish hue. Or maybe that was just the sun setting. Either way, it was pretty and completely suited the island and its inhabitants.

Sanji began to wonder if the others were enjoying the sky wherever they were. Was the weather nice where Nami was? Did Robin need protection from the sun? Had Chopper ended up somewhere with snow that reminded him of home? He hoped that Brook wasn't anywhere too gloomy and that Franky wouldn't get caught in the rain and rust; and Usopp never fared well in thunderstorms. At the very least, he didn't have to worry too much about Luffy. His captain could make the best of any situation. Sanji imagined him stretching to grab at meat-shaped clouds, and the frustrated pout on his face when he couldn't reach them. Luffy would be getting really hungry right about now.

The sadness that Sanji had first felt upon waking swelled in his chest. He had let his crew down…again. He hadn't been able to protect any of them, not even Zoro. Especially not Zoro. The strongest among them had been the first to fall and he had been powerless to stop it.

He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes against his self-loathing. It was better that he stayed here. It was safe here with the other okama. He could spend every day amongst beautiful maidens, completely embraced as one of them. Sanji gulped several breaths and then took a more calming one, forcing the sadness back down. He listened to the waves lap against the pink shore, the familiar sound soothing away his worries.

Sanji was on the edge of well-deserved sleep when he felt something brush against his fingertips. He furrowed his brow and shifted slightly in the sand, unsure of his own senses when so close to unconsciousness. It had felt like fingers, but that made no sense. The only thing near that hand other than the long hair that played out around his head was Mini Marimo. He shrugged and refocused on his long overdue nap, clearing his mind. He listened to the wind in the distant trees and gardens and the waves breaking over and against one another. Warmth from the day's bright sun still lingered in the sand, soothing and unwinding some of the tension in his back and shoulders.

Then whatever it was brushed against his hand again. This time he could tell they were fingers. Oddly familiar calloused fingertips traced the contours of his hand, running over the lines in his palm and then threading through his own fingers. Sanji grimaced and groaned, mumbling tiredly for whoever was bothering him to go away. But the hand was persistent. It gave his a slight squeeze, the rough pad of a thumb rubbing small circles on the inside of his wrist. Sanji wrinkled his nose at the sensation. His hands were precious to him and someone was begging for an ass kicking.

"Get lost, asshole," Sanji finally grumbled when his patience ran out, easily falling back into old habits on the edge of sleep. He heard a deep chuckle above him.

"Look who's talking."

Sanji's eyes snapped open and were instantly met by the sight of tanned skin, green hair, and dark grey eyes. His breath caught in his throat. Zoro hovered over him, bracing himself on hands and knees placed on either side of Sanji's body, a cocky smirk plastered across his face.

"You're the one that looks lost to me."

Sanji snorted, real nice and ladylike. "As if. I know exactly where I am."

"No, I'm pretty sure that you're lost," goaded Zoro, giving Sanji's trapped hand a slight squeeze. Sanji made to knee his plantlike counterpart away, only to find his legs pinned by Zoro's.

"You stupid marimo," growled Sanji with a scowl. "I'm not lost, _you_ are. How did you manage to go the wrong direction when you had no control over where you were going?"

"Don't change the subject," retorted Zoro, as direct as ever. He grabbed Sanji's other wrist and pressed it into the sand, leaning in close. "If you aren't lost, then why are you hiding?"

Sanji made an irritated sound in the back of his throat, whatever he had intended to say scared away when Zoro began planting kisses along his jaw line. A blush burned bright red under his makeup. "I—I'm not hiding! I'm right here out in the open, idiot!"

Zoro leaned in close enough that his entire body rested on Sanji, making the blush travel back to Sanji's ears. He could feel every single rippling muscle through the thin fabric of his dress. He felt Zoro press a firm kiss just below his ear, his lips splitting into a wide grin against the sensitive flesh.

"Then why are you wearing a mask?" he murmured, his deep voice vibrating all the way through Sanji's body and down into the sand.

Sanji pulled away from him and frowned. "Mask? What mask?"

"The one painted on your face, Curlybrow," came Zoro's immediate response. He gave Sanji a slightly surprised look. "Geez, I knew you were a little slow, but this is just sad."

"The hell?!" snapped Sanji, bristling at the insult. "This isn't a mask!"

"Yes, it is."

"_No_, it isn't!"

"Yes."

"No. A mask completely covers the face. You can see mine just fine."

"No, I can't."

"N—Wait, what?"

"It's like I said," explained Zoro, slowing his words as he thought them out carefully. He relinquished his grip on one of Sanji's wrists to run the backs of his fingers over Sanji's cheek. "You're hiding. I can't see you under all this crap you have painted on your face."

Sanji could only gape at him with a mixture of shock and confusion. Did he really look so different? Was it true that he was hiding? All of this had felt so right. He had gotten so caught up in the allure of the island. Had he really just been running away all this time?

The blush burned at his cheeks with renewed vigor. Sanji was so embarrassed. This wasn't him. He was never meant to run the beaches of a pink island while wearing a dress. A _dress_. Sanji set his jaw, old fight and fire returning to him. He wasn't some demure little okama, dammit. He was a man! More than that, he was a cook. And not just any cook. Pride swelled in his heart. He was the cook for the Straw Hat pirates. He had helped to overthrow corrupt shadow rulers, sailed to a sky island and faced a demi-god, taken on Enies Lobby, and fought zombies, all while keeping the crew and Luffy the bottomless pit fed. Who else but him could have done all of that? Besides, there were still things he needed to see and dreams to fulfill. He couldn't live out his days drinking tea with men in dresses in some perfume-scented garden.

"That's my cook," said Zoro with a wide victorious smile. "I thought I'd lost you there for a while."

"Shut up," Sanji mumbled half-heartedly, trying his best to get his blush under control. "I wasn't lost. Everything just sort of…moved."

"Uh huh, sure." Zoro slid his hand around to palm the back of Sanji's head, his fingers tangling in his extensions. He leaned in and rewarded Sanji with a firm kiss on the lips. "Admit it. You were lost."

"Like hell, I will," Sanji retorted with a challenging smirk. He tugged his other hand free and wrapped his arms around Zoro's neck, pulling him in for another kiss. He was pleased to find that the swordsman didn't hesitate, returning the kiss with the same ferocity that he used in battle.

They maintained the kiss for several minutes, each pressing his body as closely as possible to the other. The fight at Sabaody had turned so wrong, so fast; Sanji fully intended to make up for every second of fear and worry right here and now. He had no way of knowing when he would see the others again. Sure, they had their plans, but he was going to make the most of every moment that he had with the crewmate present.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were panting for breath. Zoro pulled back and ran his tongue over his lips.

"Is that stuff flavored?" he asked, a suppressed laugh curling at the corners of his mouth.

Sanji scowled at him. He was already embarrassed at being caught in a dress; he didn't want to be made fun of for his berry flavored lipstick as well.

Before he could react, Zoro wiped his thumb across Sanji's lower lip, smudging the lipstick further in the process. The swordsman studied the red smeared on his finger for a moment and then tentatively brought it to his lips. He kept his eyes locked with Sanji's as he took the lipstick-stained digit into his mouth and sucked hard. Sanji's eyes widened at the sight, all of his blood rushing south to collect behind and strain against the silken underwear hidden beneath his dress. Zoro cocked an eyebrow, smirking mischievously around his saliva coated finger.

"That's not too bad," grinned Zoro when he'd finally finished taste-testing his finger. He leaned in again and nipped at Sanji's kiss-swollen lower lip. "Maybe you should keep that part of your mask."

"Bastard." Sanji couldn't stop the wide grin that played across his lips. "If you like it so much, then maybe you should wear it."

To emphasize his point, Sanji pulled Zoro in for another fierce kiss, grinding his hips against the swordsman's as he did so. He was satisfied to find that he wasn't the only one enjoying their moment, nor was he the only one wearing lipstick when he finally pulled away. The bright red was smeared across Zoro's mouth, extending well beyond his lips and halfway up one cheek. The color clashed horribly with his bronzed skin.

"On second thought, maybe you shouldn't wear it," laughed Sanji. "It looks terrible on you."

Zoro gave him a punishing nip on the neck, alerting Sanji to how much skin his dress left exposed a little too late. Zoro's face split with a feral grin as he fingered the lipstick ringed bite mark. "You're right, it looks better on you."

Sanji began to make a witty response to the jab, but Zoro chose that moment to begin exploring the rest of his "disguise". Sitting back on Sanji's legs, effectively trapping them in the sand, he ran his hands over the ruffled hem of his dress. Sanji watched completely mesmerized as the swordsman fingered the soft fabric, until he moved on. With slow, easy movements, he slid his hands under the many layers, running them up Sanji's thighs until they met the edge of his lacey underwear. Zoro cocked an eyebrow at the frilly undergarments, giving Sanji his best shit-eating smirk.

"Really, cook?" he teased. He ran his fingers over the silken lace, the rough surface of his calloused fingers catching on the fabric over Sanji's cock in a way that made his breath hitch in his lungs. Zoro's grin widened at the heated response. "Okay, I _like_ these."

Sanji didn't even bother with attempting a smart remark this time. He was already too far gone in the moment. Instead, he squeezed his eyes closed and rocked his hips upward, spreading his legs as best as he could. He wanted more of Zoro and he wanted him now.

Zoro seemed to pick up on Sanji's not-so-subtle hint. He shifted slightly off of him, opening Sanji's legs further and kneeling between them. Then his dexterous hands returned, his fingertips gently hooking over the edge of his underwear and pulling it away. Sanji gasped as the cooling evening air hit his erection, a pleasured shiver originating at his hips and running all the way through his body. He half expected Zoro to make fun of him for his easy arousal, but the taunt never came. Instead, he felt lips gently press against the base of his throbbing cock, Zoro's body heat almost overwhelming his own.

Then that talented tongue darted out, tracing the rigid line of his cock. Zoro paused for a moment to leisurely swirl his tongue around Sanji's leaking head, before taking him into his mouth whole.

Sanji moaned, involuntarily pushing his hips upward into the wet heat of Zoro's mouth. He had missed him so much, even in that short time; worry for the swordsman's safety magnifying his loneliness and hurt. But everything would be alright now. With Zoro by his side, Sanji was certain that he could overcome anything. Together, they could find their nakama and continue on with their journey.

Zoro continued to nip and nurse at Sanji's weeping cock, building him closer and closer to his climax. Sanji buried his hands in green hair, his toes curling in the damp sand. Heat and tension coiled in his stomach and leaked from his itching head, his arousal mixing with Zoro's saliva and coating his skin. Any moment now. Just a few minutes and he would be completely undone. Just a few moments more and he—

A wave crashed into them with startling force, bowling them over and throwing Zoro from Sanji's body. Sanji choked and thrashed under the seawater until he finally found his bearings. Sitting up, Sanji found himself half-submerged in the incoming tide. His dress was disheveled and his hair was a mess—he was pretty sure that he could see one of his extensions floating in the seawater.

But Zoro was nowhere to be seen.

Panic clutched at Sanji's heart, and he turned where he sat, tangling the fabric of his dress around his legs as he searched for any sign of his wayward lover in the moonlit waters. Instead of a blustering soaking wet swordsman, his eyes found a little ball of green bobbing in the currents near his knees. Realization began to dawn on him and he hesitantly reached under the floating hem of his dress, sighing sadly as his suspicions were confirmed.

He was still wearing his underwear. It had all been a dream.

Sanji quietly watched Mini Marimo drift out to sea, logic finally prevailing and informing him that moss balls couldn't survive in salt water. It was just as well, he supposed. Better to have the entire thing be completely ridiculous, rather than just pieces of it.

Sanji caught his reflection in the mirror-like surface of the invading tidewater. _Speaking of ridiculous…_

Using handful after handful of water, Sanji scrubbed the makeup from his skin and pulled the remaining extensions from his hair. Shedding the foreign layers felt good; the only pain came when he tore away the false lashes with too much force, the ripping sensation on his eyelids making him momentarily tear up. Once he was satisfied that he had completely rid himself of all cosmetics, Sanji climbed to his feet, stumbling slightly as he negotiated the sopping wet dress that hung from his body. He huffed irritably, suddenly missing his own clothes.

As he clumsily waded to shore, Sanji absently gnawed at his lip, tasting the berry flavor under the sea salt. He paused for a moment, remembering Zoro's comment about the lipstick in his dream. It was still tempting to hide away in this strange pink paradise and forget about his problems.

Sanji vehemently shook his head and then raised his hand, wiping away the last of the lipstick along with any thoughts of staying. Standing a little straighter, he squared his shoulders and headed inland. His nakama needed him—_him_, just as he was—and Sanji had no intention of letting them down ever again.


End file.
